


Until it All Comes Crashing Down

by chip_off_the_writers_block



Series: A Universe of Imperfections [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, abuse (past)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2019-08-24 15:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chip_off_the_writers_block/pseuds/chip_off_the_writers_block
Summary: A soulmark. Nearly everyone is born with one. An intricate flower painted into your skin, a testament to who your soulmate is. And nestled among the leaves and petals or dancing along the stem is their name. The flower can be any size, and anywhere on your body. After the two of you meet, you will be able to feel things from the other person, from emotions to energy levels. Most importantly of all, the tattoo remains in black and white until the day you meet your soulmate, where it will unobtrusively burst into bright technicolor, reminding you every day of the new joy that the universe has brought into your life.Agent 707 is, and always has been, a loner. He is a secret agent, antisocial by trade, and he is content with keeping the status quo. Part of him is running from his past, a childhood and a brother he cannot forget. The rest of him is torn between the need to protect his loved ones and the fear of becoming the monster that raised him. Seven knows that his life woulf be much easier without the soulmark on his arm, taunting him with what could be. The rose on his bicep with the name Yoosung in beautiful script causes a pain in his chest that he wants to ignore, but can he deny himself happiness forever?





	1. Prologue

A soulmark. Nearly everyone is born with one. An intricate flower painted into your skin, a testament to who your soulmate is as a person. And nestled among the leaves and petals or dancing along the stem is their name. The flower can be any size, and anywhere on your body. And after the two of you meet you will be able to feel things from the other person, from emotions to energy levels. Most importantly of all, the tattoo remains in black and white until the day you meet your soulmate, where it will unobtrusively burst into bright technicolor, reminding you every day of the new joy that the universe has brought into your life. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is the first part of a four part Mystic Messenger Soulmate Series. Each story is told from a different perspective, and follows a different character.

Number 707. Top secret agent of the highest caliber, known by many names. To the agency, he is a number, a hacker. Agent 707. To his church, he is Luciel Choi. To his friends, he is Seven. To his brother, Saeyoung. And to himself, he is no one. Which may be a little over dramatic, but it is the truth. But calling himself “No one” is too emo, even for him, so for the sake of his friends, he calls himself Seven.

 

And “Seven” has a secret. Beyond that of his occupation. He hates his soulmark. It’s not uncommon for secret agents. Many of these grizzled spies have soulmarks, charred and black from countless attempts to rid themselves of the tattoo, of the constant reminder of what could have been. They often have unrequited soulmates, or had a soulmate who met an untimely death, whether it be from before they met, or even as a product of the agent’s life.

 

But Seven’s soulmate isn’t dead. No. The vividness of the tattoo ensures that his soulmate is alive. Moreover, he has no choice to conclude that his soulmark is requited, at least platonically, as his soulmate is quite honestly his best friend. The light of his life. And though he and his soulmate have never confessed to each other, they got along well, so there was slim chance his name was not scrawled along his soulmate’s body. No. The beautiful and vibrant sprawl of a red rose across his left bicep is a bane for a different reason altogether. He hates it because he has seen what a soulmate can do to an agent, cause them to be sloppy, and put their loved ones in danger. He cannot let that happen. He wants, more than anything, for his soulmate to live a long, happy life.

 

The life of a secret agent is not exactly an easy one, after all. Even now, in the dead of night and the comfort of his secure home, Seven is on edge, fighting hours of restlessness with soda and energy drinks as code runs in front of him. Running. Running. Running. Come on, come on…

 

Unexpected error in line 2098.

 

Seven groans, and slumps into his chair. He tries in vain to shake the sleepiness from his eyes, running a hand through his bright red hair and literally shaking his head from side to side. He really thought he had it this time. And it was so close to running properly. Only a few dozen lines from the end. A sharp buzz cuts through the silence, pulling Seven from his thoughts. He forces himself to stretch before picking up his phone, eyes flicking quickly between the notification, the time, and his phone battery. A chatroom has opened, it’s 2:18, and his phone is at 12%. In that order. And Yoosung was the one who started the chat. Seven feels his heart skip a beat. He forces his eyes from his phone, and realizes that at some point he stood up, which he now regrets. His muscles ache from exhaustion and lack of movement, his legs protesting the sudden return of blood flow.

 

Looking lost in the middle of his room for a moment, Seven considers options. Under normal circumstances, he’d go into the chat to mess with Yoosung after he fixed his code and ran it again, working until daylight before passing out. But he’s been pulling a lot of late or all nighters in the past couple weeks, and he knew that couldn’t be good for him or his soulmate. Maybe if they had never met, then Seven could work endlessly without worry, but now that they know each other, his habits are no longer just his own.

 

Seven stretches out his aching muscles a little more and makes a decision, swiping open his phone and wandering towards the bathroom. Talk to Yoosung and whoever else is in the chat, take a shower, make sure Yoosung goes to bed safe before he collapses as well. Fix the code in the morning, send Vanderwood the info they want. It’s a flawless plan, and Seven can handle all that. There’s just one problem: there’s no one else in the chat.

 

**Anyone up?**

**707 has entered the chat room**

**Yoosung:** Seven!

**Yoosung:** Seven! Seven! Seven!

**Yoosung:** You have to help me!

**707:** But of course! I am here to save the day! What can God 707 do for you?

**Yoosung:** I can’t sleep, but I’m not tired at all! And I have an early class tomorrow!

**707:** Oh no, my little Yoosungie is going to fall asleep in class tomorrow!

**Yoosung:** No!! Seven, why would you say that??

**Yoosung:** do you think I’m awake because my soulmate can’t sleep?

**Yoosung:** maybe she has something exciting tomorrow.

**Yoosung:** I don’t feel any excitement though. Maybe she has a test?

 

It was common knowledge in the RFA that Yoosung’s soulmate tattoo was on his back, and that he couldn’t see it. Still, he could feel his heart twist painfully in his chest, bittering even more with the knowledge that he should never have Yoosung.

 

Seven’s fingers hover over the keys, trying to decide what to say. His soulmark itches, eating away at his common sense and tightening its hold on Seven. It would be so easy to tell him. Three words and Yoosung would know that they're soulmates. Or at least, that Seven is his soulmate. Seven can feel his heart ache in his chest with longing. He quickly shakes the thought away, before typing his response with vigor.

 

**707:** Did you meet your soulmate and not tell me, Yoosungie? I’m hurt!

**Yoosung:** ahh, you’re right. I wouldn’t feel what she feels until after we’ve met. I don’t know why I can’t sleep, then.

**707:** Yoosung.

**707:** I think I know.

**Yoosung:** wha?

**707:** But you have to promise not to freak out.

**Yoosung:** just tell me, Seven!

**707:** I think you are showing early signs of soulmark erasure syndrome.

**707:** it happens sometimes to people who play too many video games.

**707:** you start with phantom feelings from your soulmate, even if you’ve never met.

**707:** then, you start to dream about them.

**707:** finally, your soulmark disappears, and you will turn into a giant game controller! 

**Yoosung:** !!!! Seven, you need to help! How do I fix this???

**707:** it’s too late, Yoosungie. There’s nothing you can do to stop it!

**Yoosung:** ahhh!! Oh no!!! I have to find a way to fix this!!

**Yoosung has left the chat**

 

Seven stares blankly at his phone, processing for a moment what just happened. He didn’t expect Yoosung to be so gullible, and while logically he feels he should be annoyed or amused, he doesn’t. He can feel Yoosung’s panic, and it only served to make him feel guilty. The sour feeling twists his insides as a part of him laments the missed opportunity. He could have told Yoosung the truth. Seven busies himself with a shower, shaking off the thoughts and turning the water just hot enough to distract his busy mind, but not enough to where Yoosung would get hurt.

 

The heat succeeds in soothing Seven’s aching muscles, and momentarily distracts his from his guilt. He focuses so heavily on his shower that he’s caught completely off guard by a wave of exhaustion. His eyes snap open and he realizes it means his soulmate is asleep, and despite himself he finds himself fighting off a smile. He’s going to be okay. That is the most important part. He busies himself with cleaning up, humming absentmindedly as he showered, relishing the feel of the hot water scrubbing the dirt and sweat from his skin. By the time he’s done, Seven feels sleepy and content, a feeling fairly foreign to him. He decides to chase the feeling by toweling his hair off and actually wearing pajamas for once.

 

Seven shuffles over to his bed and flops down. For a couple moments, all is good. There’s no code to fix tomorrow, his soul bond is sweet and filled with affection, and for the first time in a long time, he just sleeps.


	3. Chapter 2

The sound of laughter fills Seven’s ears. Sweet smiles and bright eyes overwhelm his senses. Yoosung. Yoosung. Seven reaches out, and pulls him close. He feels like his heart might burst. Happiness. So much happiness. Yoosung looks up at Seven, purple eyes shining with joy. A soft, shy smile dances on his lips. Seven feels dizzy. He hasn’t been so happy in years. Possibly ever. And now Yoosung is getting closer, pushing himself up on his toes. Closer. Closer.

 

Beep-beep.

 

The harsh sound of his alarm drags Seven out from his dream, and for the briefest moment he wants to just nestle back into his covers and sleep more. But as his traitorous eyes closed, he saw him. Snippets of his dreams began to trickle in, filling his vision. Seven’s eyes snap open, and he sits up, forcing himself to be awake.

 

He dreamt of Yoosung last night. That never happens. And he hates himself for it happening. He hates how, even now, his head spins to the sound of his laughter. He hates how his chest tightens at the thought of his smile. And most of all, Seven hates himself for how goddamn domestic the entire dream was.

 

If it had been some heat filled romantic scene, filled with obscene noises and unspoken desire, Seven would definitely have been embarrassed, of course. But at least he could have written it off as lust, a product of his life of solitude. But this, the intense want of having someone close to him, to make someone else happy the way he did in his dream, that was just pathetic. Honestly, what self-respecting adult loses it over a kiss?

 

Seven forces himself to not think about it, instead throwing himself into menial tasks all day. The code he wrote last night was ridiculously easy to fix, and within minutes he’s sending Vanderwood all the info they need.

 

After that, he cleans for the first time in eons, his brain taunting him with the thoughts of his dreams. Doing laundry? Throw in the sound of Yoosung’s laughter with it. The softness of his violet eyes are put away as Seven loads the dishwasher, his happy step swept out as he vacuums. And finally, the eager quirk of his lips as he leans towards Seven, the promise of a kiss ghosting against them goes out with the garbage. Out of Seven’s room, his bunker, and all the way out to the bin in the driveway, laying with old soda cans, empty chip bags, and half eaten takeout from two months ago.

 

This of course, takes several hours, because Seven literally never cleans. He cannot remember what color the carpets are, or if his room is even carpeted at all. (It’s not. He found out today that the floors of bedroom are hardwood.) It’s a surprisingly good distraction, and by the time Seven is done, he’s not only successfully banished the images from the dream, but also completely skipped lunch. Seven almost considers leaving the gnawing feeling in his stomach to a bag of chips, but ultimately he decides on eating actual food.

 

Seven idly flips through his multitude of takeout menus, trying to decide what he should get, and mentally patting himself on the back for being an actual functioning human today, when an alarm sounds throughout his bunker, signaling someone at the front door. Seven frowns, trying to rack his brain for anyone he could be expecting, but drawing up a blank. He briefly considers letting the person on the other end just suffer, but he feels a pull towards the door. He relents, and looks at his security screen.

 

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but Yoosung panting and shakily fumbling with his phone was definitely not even close. The sudden buzz from the depths of his jacket pocket are ultimately what pulls him out of it, Yoosung’s face lighting up his phone screen, and he quickly disables his alarm as he answers the incoming call.

 

“Hello, Yoosungie, my dear, the door is open if you want to come in,” he forces his tone to stay light and teasing, not daring letting it betray the emotion he feels welling up in his chest.

 

Can hear Yoosung push open the door as he speaks, and Seven is left torn between concern and amusement as he hears his friend’s real voice mixing with the one over the phone.

 

“You left me out there for so long, Seven! I thought I was going to die from that thing! It was counting down and you did nothing! It wanted me to say some code in Arabic? Why Arabic? And why would you set up your security system to not let your friends in, anyway?”

 

By the time Yoosung is in Seven’s line of sight, he’s gotten himself pretty worked up. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are glinting dangerously. He’s practically stomping towards Seven, and Seven comes up with approximately three ways to get Yoosung to stop talking. The first is by immediately turning the conversation to Yoosung, demanding to know why he was here. The second is to avoid the question by complaining how hungry he is. And the third is to kiss him. That one is definitely not allowed. But Yoosung is still upset. Seven believes he can make the first option work.

 

“I would have let you in sooner if I knew you were coming, Yoosung.” It is really quite adorable how Yoosung could change moods so quickly. He was so worked up a moment ago, but is now nearly instantly averting his gaze in embarrassment. God, give him strength.

 

“Well, I just got out of class before I caught a train to you,” Yoosung shuffles his feet against the carpet. “I wouldn’t have shown up unexpected like this, but you weren’t answering your phone and I just couldn’t get this off my mind, so I came here.”

 

Seven’s mind whirs, trying in vain to fill in the blanks Yoosung has left and jumping to wild conclusions. His heart speeds up with his brain, and he forces himself to get back under control. Yoosung is still talking, Seven can hear him, and after an intense moment of focus, he’s actually listening, too.

 

“-and so I thought I should know, you know? I know my parents wanted it to be a surprise, but I don’t want to be uncertain about it anymore. So, will you help me?”

 

Seven feels numb. He’s not really sure what Yoosung is asking for, but he doesn’t want to seem rude. He can tell Yoosung the truth, and explain that he is exhausted from working several late nighters in a row, but the thought of making his friend worry makes his heart twist uncomfortably, and he finds himself nodding numbly along to his friend’s words.

 

Yoosung’s eyes light up. Seven is sure he is going to die, for nothing could have prepared him for the beauty before him. Not to be overly dramatic, but Seven would liken Yoosung’s eyes to amethysts, if not more radiant. Every fiber of his being screams of want, and Seven automatically tenses his muscles, clenching his fists to keep from reaching out to him.

 

Seven snaps out of his thoughts again when Yoosung suddenly begins to move. Seven silently curses himself for being so flighty lately, and focuses his eyes on his friend. They are met with Yoosung trying to pull his hoodie over his head in a blue cotton blur. Seven’s cheeks flush as Yoosung’s stomach comes into view, and he grabs the other’s arms in a slight panic.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Yoosung.” It takes all of Seven’s effort to keep his voice from cracking. “What are you doing?”

 

Yoosung seems to let Seven bring his arms back to his sides, but his eyes betray his confusion. God they’re close now. Seven prays silently to strengthen his resolve.

 

“You said you would help me find my soulmate,” Bright violet eyes stare at Seven through long lashes, threatening to tear down every one of Seven’s walls. God, is that what he has agreed to do? “And you can’t see the tattoo without me taking my hoodie and shirt off, so how else will we find them?”

 

Think, Seven. Think. Seven scolds himself. He was literally a secret agent. He should be able to come up with something to tell his best friend. Especially to keep him safe.

 

“I’ve just been working so much these past few nights, so I’m very tired,” Not the truth. Seven definitely was not planning to say the truth. “I even cleaned the place. But I got so caught up in work and cleaning that I forgot to eat.”

 

Seven pauses, just in time for Yoosung’s stomach to growl, and subsequently, for Yoosung’s cheeks to tinge pink in embarrassment. Which was equal parts convenient and endearing. Seven lets himself chuckle slightly before giving Yoosung a pointed look.

 

“It seems my little Yoosungie was so excited to come see me that he forgot to eat, too,” Seven pretends not to notice how Yoosung’s cheek flushed deeper at his teasing. “Tsk, tsk. How are you going to find your soulmate on an empty stomach? You’ll collapse before you find her. Let’s have something to eat first, then we’ll work on finding your soulmate, mmkay?”

 

Reaching his hand out, Seven ruffles Yoosung’s hair, making sure to push his head down just a little. Not that it matters much, since Seven only had two inches of height on Yoosung. It just makes it easier to avoid looking Yoosung in the eyes. Not that Seven is doing that.

 

Regardless, Seven knows lunch will not save him. It will only buy him a little time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. This story generally takes a lot out of me to write, so it's slower than a lot of the other things I do. Hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 3

Yoosung is not, by any means, a particularly picky eater, but his enthusiasm for most of the choices makes it nearly impossible for him and Seven to decide on something. It takes Seven nearly all his effort to simply not buy Yoosung whatever he wants from all of the takeout restaurants he knows, but in the end, they agree on getting takeout from a noodle place Seven found recently.

Distracting Yoosung while they were eating is easy enough. Honestly, the food is more than enough to do it on its own. This restaurant is new to him, and Yoosung cannot stop acting like it is the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. And that only solidifies that Yoosung is the most amazing thing Seven has ever seen.

Of course, since the food is doing most of the legwork in keeping Yoosung happy, it gives Seven plenty of time to panic over what he should do. He eats quickly, albeit absentmindedly, as he always does, chewing on the ends of his chopsticks in between mouthfuls of noodles. But, try as he might, he cannot think of what he can do for Yoosung, other than look at his tattoo and pray that by some twist of fate there is some name other than his on it. Which, granted, is not exactly a foolproof plan.

Seven is sure that being a secret agent is supposed to entitle him to better improvising skills than this. And yet, somehow, when it comes to Yoosung, his brain can’t come up anything. And maybe he doesn’t want to. Which is all the more reason to make sure that he stays far away.

Chewing thoughtfully on his chopsticks, Seven still doesn’t know what to do. His eyes scan over Yoosung, bright and oblivious, as usual. It makes Seven’s heart skip a beat. He is nearing the end of his food, however. Seven feels a flash of panic. He isn’t ready. What is he going to do?

“Seven?” God, why did he have to fall in love with an angel? Why was God so cruel as to give him a soulmate so incompatibly innocent to him? “Are… Are you done eating?”

Seven smiles brightly, with the briefest moment of hesitation before. He knows Yoosung won’t be able to notice.

“Yes, Yoosungie. I’m done.”

Yoosung nods in response, and Seven pretends to be wildly interested in cleaning up the table. While he does, Yoosung fidgets with the hem of his sleeve, picking at invisible lint and loose seams that don’t exist.

“Should I… Should I take my hoodie off now? I mean, you’re ready now, right?”

Yoosung slowly brings his eyes up to Seven’s, and Seven feels his heart leap into his throat for the umpteenth time that day. He just looks so vulnerable and uncertain. And Seven feels so honored to have this boy’s trust. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

“I am always ready to help you, Yoosungie,” Seven says brightly. It is a lie, but it makes Yoosung relax a little. “Are you ready, though?”

Yoosung brings his eyes down again, fingers still dancing along the seams of his sleeves. He speaks, uncertain and nervous and so quietly it’s barely audible.

“I’m nervous. I’m just afraid that my soulmate won’t like me. I’m boring, and I’m a loser. I’m not rich like Jumin, famous like Zen, hardworking like Jaehee, determined like MC, or successful like you. I just don’t think I’m a very worthy soulmate.”

Seven is certain he’s going to die. Right after he kills whoever made Yoosung think he’s not wonderful. Seven steels his heart and grabs Yoosung’s hands in his.

“You are the most amazing person I’ve met, Yoosung.” Don’t get lost in his eyes, Seven. “Your soulmate is going to love you. I promise. They’re the one that is lucky and unworthy.”

Yoosung breathes in sharply, not saying anything. Seven scans his face, pleasantly surprised at the wonder dancing across Yoosung’s face. He figures his work is done, and releases Yoosung’s hands. As he pulls them back, however, he’s met with resistance. Yoosung’s hands are still firmly wrapped around his own, and though Seven is sure he’s imagining things, it feels as though the grip tightens slightly as he tries to pull away. Yoosung entirely avoids Seven’s eyes, and instead is apparently entirely absorbed with the tile behind Seven.

“Yoosung.” Guiding bright violet eyes back to his, Seven gently calls out to the man before him. “Is everything alright?”

“Will you tell me about your soulmark?” Well, that certainly isn’t what Seven was expecting. And Seven is definitely tempted to refuse. But Yoosung’s bashful, hopeful gaze crumbles his resolve.

“Only if you promise not to panic.” Yoosung furrows his brow in confusion, and Seven takes a deep breath before slowly sliding his jacket down his shoulders.

The red rose comes into view, and Seven closes his eyes, waiting for a reaction. The silence that follows is deafening. What feels like an eternity passes with no sound, no movement that Seven can tell. It surprises him when he feels the ghost of a touch along his bicep, so feather light it’s easy to convince himself that he imagines it. After a moment, it becomes stronger, gently tracing the lines of the rose, along the petals, the stem, and finally settling on the name.

The gentle skim of Yoosung’s fingers knock the wind out of Seven. The gentle movements are much tenderer than that of his mother and far less impersonal than anything he felt from the agency. Seven is content as he is, eyes shut and letting himself get lost in hope, in ignorance. Pretending that this will work out. Pretending that he was hiding from Yoosung for no reason.

He knows he can’t hide forever, and after Yoosung traces his name on Seven’s bicep for the third time, he forces his eyes open. Wonder dances in Yoosung’s eyes, his lips parted into a small “o” of disbelief as his fingers trace over his name over and over. Seven tries to suppress a fond smile, and fails. He’s unsure of how to pull Yoosung out of his stupor, but after a few moments of consideration, he settles on bringing his left hand up to comb through his hair.

Yoosung pulls his hand back, and blinks for a moment, blushing.

“It’s beautiful,” his voice is soft, hesitant. He’s nervous. “Do you... Do you think mine matches?”

Seven pauses. Emotions battle in his stomach, and he is unsure of what to do. He’s scared. Seven has always accepted that Yoosung should never be with him, but most of his plans up until now have revolved around keeping Yoosung from knowing, and they were well passed that point now. Adrenaline is maxing with the conflict within Seven, and his fingers twitch as his agent training whispers commands. Try as he might, though, Yoosung’s hopeful and scared gaze keeps Agent 707 at bay, and in a moment that Seven can only describe to be purely Saeyoung, he motions for Yoosung to show him.

Yoosung’s eyes light up immediately, and he scrambles to pull off his hoodie and shirt. Seven focuses his sight up towards Yoosung’s shoulders, making sure he was coming off as calm. Seven is sure that there is no hitch in his breath when the tattoo comes into view, and he is sure his eyes don’t widen as he takes it in.

It’s beautiful.

Bluebells crawl down from the top of Yoosung’s left shoulder and trail along his spine, eventually stopping at the small of his back. Seven can’t help his smile as he reads the name, both surprised and proud that the name Saeyoung traces along the edge of the flowers, less curvy than the letters on Seven’s own tattoo and certainly not cursive. The briefest flash of hesitance and fear crosses Seven’s mind, but the words are out before he can stop them.

“It matches.”

Yoosung is suddenly so close, and Seven is surprised that his training didn’t reflexively kick in, sending the man in front of him into the wall behind him. He can feel the warmth of Yoosung’s body inches away, a foreign feeling that makes his skin tingle in confusion and sends his heart into a frenzy. Yoosung’s bright violet eyes meet Seven’s own, and Seven instantly understand the meaning behind his soft expression.

Seven leans towards Yoosung. Slowly. Drawing out to moment. Letting it last the eternity it deserves. Then, in a single fluid motion, Seven’s lips meet the skin of Yoosung’s forehead. Confusion flashes across Yoosung’s face, and Seven expertly quells the dissatisfaction coiling tight around his heart.

“Sorry, cutie.” Seven’s bright tone sounds fake, even to himself, but he manages to convince himself his words are true. “This isn’t a shoujo anime or anything like that. I’m going to take you out on the best date ever before I earn that kiss.”

Yoosung’s brow furrows, and Seven knows his best friend enough to pick out disappointment, embarrassment, and understanding at war on his face and in his mind. Seven doesn’t want to dwell on it too long, and quickly scans the room for a distraction. He notices the time.

“Ah, it is getting late though.”

Yoosung springs back, seeming to suddenly be aware of his close proximity to Seven. Seven, on the other hand, never forgot, and the coolness of the air between them sends a chill through his skin. Yoosung glances at the clock, and doesn’t even try to hide the surprised squeak that escapes his mouth as the fluorescent green lights on the microwave yell silently back at them. 10:42, it shouts. Yoosung suddenly begins to speak, in the endearing, rambly way that he does, and pulls his shirt and hoodie back over his head. Seven pointedly ignores the disappointment gnawing at his bones.

“Ah, that’s right. It is really late. I should head home soon if I don’t want to fall asleep on the train. Thank you so much for dinner, Sev-”

Yoosung stops short when he turns to leave, surprised. Seven can’t blame him. He had moved himself into the doorway while Yoosung was rambling, after all. To be completely honest, it surprised Seven a little, too. He wasn’t quite processing what he was doing. But there he is, leaning against the doorframe, making it very difficult to get in or out of the kitchen.

“You don’t have to.” God, he’s rambling. “Leave, I mean. You’re welcome to stay the night, if you’re scared of the train at this hour. Not-not like in a romantic way, I mean. I can get blankets and pillows and we can lay them out in the living room. Have a sleepover. If you want.”

Agent 707, known for his quick thinking, amazing problem solving skills, and endless charm is apparently no match for cute boys who have purple eyes and blonde hair, because he is making a complete fool of himself. A blushing, rambling fool. Who is walking closer to Yoosung as he speaks and probably getting into his personal space.

Or maybe not, because Yoosung is looking at Seven like he hung the stars. As if the brightest lights in the universe aren’t already glittering in his eyes.

“I would love to get to stay, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” Yoosung tries to not sound too enthusiastic, lips twitching as he tries to fight off a very apparent smile.

Seven presses another kiss to Yoosung’s forehead before literally breaking out into a sprint towards his room. He grabs his covers and pillows, throwing them in a haphazard pile on his newly cleaned floor. He tries not to think about what he’s done as he sorts through his closets for extra sheets, blankets, and pillows. It’s absolutely so he can keep as much distance from Yoosung as possible during the night, and not so they can make a fort to cuddle underneath while they sleep.

\---

They make a pillow fort.

Seven does not want to, nor does he advocate for it, but how is he supposed to say no to Yoosung’s excited declaration that a pillow fort is essential to a good sleepover? Especially when Seven knows Yoosung doesn’t have many friends outside of the RFA. So Seven lets Yoosung make his pillow fort and snuggle up to him while they play video games, which Seven decidedly does not lose against Yoosung because he’s distracted by the novelty of the warmth seeping through his skin, and he absolutely does not lose a second time on purpose after seeing Yoosung get so excited about beating Seven at a game. And his heart doesn’t skip a beat when Yoosung presses his lips against his cheek after a whoop of joy.

 


	5. Chapter 4

The lack of warmth is the first thing Seven notices in the morning. The second thing is the smell of eggs. And the third is sound of Yoosung singing to himself.

And the first thing that crosses his mind is confusion as he tries to figure out what alternate universe he’s fallen into.

Slowly but surely, though, Seven remembers the previous day, and he can’t help but feel fear settle into the pit of his stomach. He knows he’s going to mess this up, break poor sweet Yoosung’s heart, and he’s not ready to lose him. Seven tries to fight off the frown etched into his face, but it is proving to be harder than he thought. He barely melts into a smile when Yoosung turns around and faces him, all soft and sweet.

“Good morning, Seven,” Yoosung chirps. “I hope it’s okay that I started making breakfast.”

Seven is floored, not only by Yoosung’s thoughtfulness, but that there is anything that can be made from the food in his house. The eggs do smell amazing, but Seven is nearly positive that he has never bought eggs from the grocery store before.

Yoosung seems to understand his confusion, and looks a bit sheepish as he tries to rest Seven’s worries.

“There was someone here earlier. They said there was a lead on your ‘special project.’ They brought groceries and left a packet on the table, but left as soon as they saw how clean your house was. Said something about not wanting to remind you they were here, so you can take care of yourself and they don’t have to clean up after you?”

Ah. So Vanderwood brought the eggs. That makes much more sense to Seven. Though if Yoosung had said he had conjured fresh food from nothingness, Seven may be inclined to believe him. He remembers learning about heavenly bodies performing miracles when he first started going to church, and Yoosung definitely qualifies as an angel.

Seven sits down at the table and smiles brightly at Yoosung, who returns the smile with a cuteness Seven wishes he could possess. Seven pointedly ignores the sealed manila envelope sitting at the edge of the table, mere inches away from his fingers, and instead focuses on how domestic this whole scene is.

“It smells delicious, cutie,” Seven says in a tone he hopes is reassuring. Judging by the way Yoosung beams, it is. “You’ll need to teach me how to cook some time.”

Seven gets up from his place at the table to fetch plates and tableware, setting two plates next to Yoosung before setting the rest of the table. Yoosung maneuvers around Seven with surprising ease to set their plates on the table, barely brushing against Seven as he walks past. They’ve never done this before, but Seven feels a comforting form of déjà vu settling in his heart, as if a spirit is whispering to him that this is the way the world should be.

Seven moves the folder to the counter, and the two of them settle in their chairs, Yoosung staring across the table at Seven with his soft features riddled with worry. He idly regrets his decision to sit across from Yoosung instead of next to, until he realizes how much touching sitting next to Yoosung would entail. So instead of pondering which one of those two options is worse, Seven instead shoves a bite of his breakfast into his mouth, reminding himself that he’s allowed to have expressions.

“Yoosung,” Seven begins with a very serious tone, before breaking out into a bright smile. “This is amazing.”

Yoosung’ face lights up, obviously relieved, and Seven silently praises God for gifting him this treasure. Seven lets Yoosung chat excitedly between bites, rambling on about how he is trying something new, and scours his brain for the last time he’s had a home cooked meal filled with love like this one. The only meal that even comes close is the one Rika fed him the day he got accepted into the agency. He makes sure to give Yoosung lots of praise about it, both to wash the anxiety from his features and to revel in Yoosung’s soft blush. It truly is a magical experience.

In the midst of lovely domesticity, it is easy to forget about giant quests that cannot be emotionally prepared for. And that’s exactly what Seven does. He smiles, he listens to Yoosung’s sweet chatter, and he forgets all about the manila folder of doom. That is, of course, until breakfast is finished. All good things must come to an end, and all that.

For as much as Seven is ready to continue to ignore the folder, pretend it isn’t here,Yoosung is utterly fascinated by it, and Seven can tell that his curiosity is just about to boil over.

Seven reaches over, barely able to grab the folder without knocking his chair over or moving from his spot at the table. He sits back down and opens the envelope, gently untwisting the metal fastener and laying out the contents with bated breath.

The room is silent as Seven skims through the document, tongue poking out past his lips in concentration as he reads, eyes sliding easily down the page. It takes him less than ten minutes to read it all, but it feels so much longer.

“What does it say?” Yoosung asks when Seven finally puts down the last page.

He tries hard to conceal his curiosity, and fails. Seven can’t help but think about how adorable that is.

“Well, it is classified, of course,” Seven says, voice low and serious. His eyes sparkle with amusement as Yoosung nods along, face furrowing into a solemn expression. Cute.

“But,” Seven leans over the table conspiratorially. Yoosung scrambles closer as well. “I can tell you this.”

Seven pauses a moment, drinking in Yoosung’s bright eyes, wide and serious. Then, in a single fluid motion, he leans forward and pecks the tip of Yoosung’s nose. Yoosung squeaks in surprise and falls back into his chair. His cheeks flush the loveliest shade of red as Seven laughs.

“Sorry, cutie,” Seven says between chuckles. “I couldn’t help myself. You’re just too pretty.”

Yoosung pouts, his bottom lip jutting out in the most adorable display of unhappiness in history, and Seven’s heart melts. He can feel a tickle of amusement in the back of his mind, a reminder that Yoosung isn’t really mad at him, and he can’t help but feel a bit guilty. Yoosung is too good for him.

“This mission is dangerous, cutie,” Seven murmurs. “I’m tracking down the mysterious person who’s been trying to get to MC.”

Seven stands slowly.

“I need to pack, then head out, so get ready. I’ll drop you off at your apartment before I leave.”

Seven turns away from Yoosung and towards his room, but before he gets more than a couple steps towards his room, he feels a warm weight press against his back, arms looped tightly around Seven’s stomach. He feels a wave of worry he knows isn’t his wash over him, and he instinctively tightens his shoulders.

“Take me with you,” Yoosung mumbles into Seven’s back.

With a little difficulty, Seven twists around in Yoosung’s grip, reorienting himself until Yoosung’s chest is flush against his own.

“It’s dangerous, Yoosung.” Seven wants more than anything to keep Yoosung safe. “Too dangerous.”

The thought of putting Yoosung in danger makes Seven’s chest tighten painfully, but the insistent worry nagging at him in the back of his mind is infinitely worse. He won’t be able to concentrate on the task at hand if Yoosung is going to worry this much. He can feel a stubborn anger settling just out of reach in his gut, and he knows Yoosung has made up his mind.

“Only if you follow all of the rules I have,” Seven says sternly. He doesn’t miss the way that Yoosung’s eyes light up when he says that, but he pushes on. “You will stay in the car if anything looks too dangerous for you, and if anything happens to me, you  _ will not  _ do anything that will put you in danger. Do you understand?”

Yoosung nods, eyes wide. Seven presses a kiss to Yoosung’s forehead, but pulls back far enough before Yoosung can tilt his head up for a more intimate kiss.

The two of them set off to work, Yoosung being in charge of collecting food from around the kitchen and Seven packing a bag full of clothes and tucking electronics between them. He helps Yoosung put things in his car. The red one. His favorite.

They get in the car.

Seven drives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not touching this fic in months. But I do have a lot more chapters of this story planned out, as well as some companion pieces. I definitely want to write one or two on MC and Jaehee, as well as a 3rd person limited from Yoosung's side. Which means I have some questions for you all!
> 
> 1\. What is your stance on having a 'real' name vs just MC in fics? MC's naming is apparently a debated topic for this fandom. I personally tend to just abbreviate Main Character, because while I personally don't care either way, if I were to give her a real name, I'd want her to have a Korean one that makes sense. Right now, between my other projects and obligations, it's kind of low on my priority list, but I'd be willing to put in the effort if you guys care one way or another.  
> 2\. My current two pairings are an MLM one (Saeyoung and Yoosung, obviously) and a WLW one (Jaehee and the main character). Which leaves Zen, Jumin, V, and Saeran. (And Vanderwood and Rika, if you want to count them, too). This whole series is supposed to kind of be about using soulmate tropes beyond "We're meant to be, so we're in love", so I have a few different ideas. Let me know which ones you like best, or if you have another idea!  
> a) Zen and Jumin are soulmates with each other. Jumin was raised to believe they are a waste of time, and knows that his future is more sound if he marries for status insread of love, and thus puts no stock into it at all. Zen has a very romanticized view of them, but grows to hate his own not only when he realizes his soulmate is a man, but that it's someone he doesn't get along with at all. They need to combat their own preconcieved notions of what will make them happy, and ultimately decide whether or not to follow destiny.  
> b) Zen has an unrequited soulmate in Jumin, Jumin has an unrequited soulmate in V, and V has a requited soulmate in Rika that ends poorly. Jumin knows V is his soulmate, but shuns the idea of them entirely, because he knows he's not getting his affections returned. Zen feels betrayed and broken, because he believes in aoulmates, and put in a lot of effort in getting past his differences with Jumin, only to find out his soulmate doesn't reciprocate. And V blames himself for what happened wih Rika, believing that he ruined his one chance at happiness with his naive willingness to do anything for her. He pushes people away from him, and accepts torture as his karma. This would end in a polyamorous relationship, where the three of them need to learn how to trust in a second chance at a happy ending. (Note: soulmate assignments in this one are subject to change, but the end result will be the same)  
> c) Saeran is born without a soulmark. As he grows older, he hates that fact more and more, seeing it as validation that he's unlovable. He gets the Mint Eye tattoo as a replacement- a manifestation of his loyalty to the only people who he feels have ever cared about him. In order for him to believe other people love him, he must first learn that he is lovable, and works towards self acceptance before finally letting himself have something good. ( HIs pairing options would be Vanderwood, who would need to learn not only to love themselves, but also that there are merits to other people and themself beyond their "usefulness", Zen, whose struggles would then shift from battling with not getting along with his soulmate to getting past his own idealistic beliefs and and accepting that he can love someone without his soulmark, and reevaluating what he thinks a "happy ending" for himself is, as well as learning how to communicate and understand Saeran, or any of the other characters, mostly with the same struggles as before).


	6. Chapter 5

For the first thirty minutes of the drive, Seven tries to talk Yoosung out of coming with him. He tries everything, from downplaying the danger of the mission to make it seem boring to tempting Yoosung with a new gaming computer. None of it works. Instead, Yoosung adamantly refuses, determination shining in his bright eyes, and Seven knows he’s lost. Seven can’t help but notice the fondness that washes over him as Yoosung stubbornly sticks his lip out, his high and sweet tone of voice betraying his spoken threat of chaining himself to the car. The softness that settles in Seven’s soul nearly lets him ignore the pang of worry and the possessive protectiveness that settles beneath the warmth of love.  
  
The feeling makes Seven nauseous, and it nearly completely deters him from eating. He feels worse knowing that Yoosung can feel his inner turmoil, and is infinitely grateful that he doesn’t press on. Instead, cool dry fingertips gently rub his arm, and those same fingers feed him as the car races down the highway. Seven doesn’t understand how he could ever be this lucky. He presses small kisses to the tips of Yoosung’s fingertips in between bites, pleased by the enamored sounds that escapes his soulmate’s mouth.  
  
The two of them drive in peace, the car filled only with the crinkling of plastic bags and Yoosung’s excited ramblings. Seven focuses entirely on the road and Yoosung’s voice, the soft but animated chatter harmonizing with the wind rushing past the car window panes.  
  
The highway is gloriously empty, despite the fact that it’s midday, and the roads are comfortable and smooth. The day is warm. All of it is beautiful.

All of it puts Seven on edge. This drive is supposed to be bumpy and unpleasant. It should be dark and damp and cold, with no whispers or civilization for miles. This drive should not feel safe. But it does.  
  
Seven drums his fingers against the steering wheel, careful to not let his guard down. Yoosung has begun fumbling around with his phone, both plugging it in for charge and trying to hook it up to Seven’s baby’s speakers. Seven never listens to music in the car of his own volition, but had long since taken to putting aux adapters in all of his cars specifically for Yoosung. Well, more specifically, for his soulmate. Music travels easily through soul bonds, and is one of the sure fire ways of cheering Yoosung up from a bad exam or stressful day.  
  
Even now, on their way to what Seven can only assume to be nearly certain death, Yoosung is bright and smiling, humming along happily to the music blaring from the car’s speakers. Pop music, Seven notes. Upbeat and innocent as the man who chose it.  
  
Seven is trained to go on highly dangerous missions, and the nervousness had been forced out of him long ago. And yet, he can feel a rush of anxiety and excitement in his veins, itching in a way that makes him think it doesn’t belong.  
  
“Are you okay?” Seven raises his voice over the soft beat pulsing from his speakers. Yoosung is bouncing his leg in time with the music.  
  
“Yeah,” he says with a nod.  
  
Seven throws over a fond smile.  
  
“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything hurt you. I promise.”  
  
Seven means to be reassuring, but as soon as he says that, he feels a spike of anxiety that is decidedly not his own.  
  
“I know you will,” Yoosung says, barely loud enough to be distinguished from the vocals filling the car. “I’m scared of you getting hurt to keep me safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”  
  
Seven chews his lip, caught off guard by Yoosung’s earnest. For the first time in a long time, he’s at a complete loss for words. He knows the details of the mission, and he knows that his life is a dangerous one. But more than anything, he knows he values his life less than he should. And he can’t tell Yoosung that, in his eyes, Yoosung is worth more than he could ever hope to be. But he also doesn’t want to lie to his soulmate.  
  
“I can take care of myself,” he says finally, keeping his vice even and soft. Reassuring, even.  
  
Yoosung’s shoulders slump in relief, and Seven makes a show of singing along boisterously with the chorus of the next bubblegum pop song to lift his spirits. Yoosung grins brightly and joins in, and the car is filled with sounds of happiness.  
  
The two of them almost forget where it is that they’re supposed to go, and Seven can almost trick himself into believing that this drive is a beginning, instead of an end. That his life is going somewhere good, instead of nowhere at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry it's been a while. I've been in a bit of a writing funk, but hopefully it'll clear up soon.


	7. Chapter 6

The drive, despite being several hours long, ends all too quickly. Yoosung is all but vibrating in the passenger seat next to Seven, lips parted and staring in awe. In front of the car is a giant, looming building in white and gaudy green, a giant pale green eye glowing back at them. Seven can hear nothing but the blood rushing in his ears for several seconds. His hands grip at the steering wheel, knuckles white with strain. Seven can feel fear rising up in the back of his throat, foreign and bitter, and he knows immediately it’s not his own. He turns to Yoosung, who’s still captivated.

“We should go over strategies,” Seven says. “Plan of attack, and all that.”

Yoosung nods, eyes still wide. Seven smiles reassuringly, before beckoning Yoosung over to him. Seven pulls a laptop out from behind his seat, deftly pulling up a copy of the blueprints of the garish green building. All he needs to do is get inside and get some information out of the lair’s computer room. Seven doesn’t offer many details as to who he thinks owns this place, and Yoosung doesn’t ask. In fact, Seven exclusively calls it all - the building, the organization, everything - Mint Eye.

Yoosung’s job is relatively simple: help Seven get into the room, stand watch while Seven works on downloading the information, and, most importantly, run if anyone finds them. Yoosung would be avoiding danger by design: Seven refuses to give him any task that could lead to even the thought of bodily harm.

Once the briefing is done, Seven grabs a backpack from the backseat. He presses a kiss to Yoosung’s forehead before opening the car door and stepping outside. The brisk evening air hits Seven through the open front of his jacket, unpleasant but not unbearable. His hoodie is durable, lightweight and warm, though its distinct patterns ultimately make it impractical for his job. Seven frowns as he feels a shiver down his spine. He doesn’t feel cold, which means that he isn’t the one the shiver came from. Glancing over at Yoosung, Seven sees his suspicions confirmed: arms hugging close to his chest, Yoosung is shivering. Seven has always known that his best friend’s pale blue sweater is more of a fashion piece than a utility, but before now he never realized just how thin the article really is.

In a flash, Seven is at Yoosung’s side, draping his much more substantial jacket over his soulmate’s shoulders, pleased with the wave of warmth that washed over the back of his brain despite the slight chill he can feel on his arms. Yoosung smiles back up at him, eyes filled with gratitude, and Seven can feel the spark between them.

Yoosung leans up, bringing himself up on his toes, lessening the already slight height difference between him and Seven. Desire-darkened purple eyes meet amber ones, and time seems to slow down. Yoosung smells good, warm and safe, and Seven can feel desire muddying his thoughts.

“We should get a move on,” he manages to croak out, stopping Yoosung in his tracks.

The disappointment is clear on Yoosung’s face, but Seven quickly pushes the guilt out of his mind. Instead, he pulls away from Yoosung and walks with purpose towards the Mint Eye Building.

Their attempts to get into the building are met with much less resistance than Seven was expecting, which puts him on edge. It takes them less than fifteen minutes to infiltrate the building and find the room they’re looking for, an inkling of wrongness settling in Seven’s bones.

The Mint Eye computer room is huge, with high ceilings and comically large screens that start around mid-chest and span all the way up the wall. The screens are all dark, save for the green text running on them, and the giant green eye in the center of it all. There’s a large desk, with a chair, multiple keyboards, and a few computer towers. Seven inches towards the setup, nerves on high alert. His feet carry him all the way to the computer before he begins to believe that the room isn’t booby-trapped.

It takes a little under a minute for Seven to hook up his laptop into the nearest computer tower.

Unlike the rest of the building, the computer does not yield easily. Seven has to employ three of his algorithms before he can even get past the first layer of protection. Encryptions, firewalls, they keep throwing themselves at Seven, one after another. It’s exhausting, and does nothing to quell the paranoia within Seven. Why would Mint Eye, a malicious organization, leave their most important asset with thirty layers of cybernetic protection, only to leave the rest of the building completely open?

Code runs, line after line flying in and out of Seven’s vision as he sits, hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He can hear Yoosung’s soft breathing echoing from the doorway over to him, and for the first time since the two became friends, Seven finds the sound more unnerving than soothing.

Almost there.

The entire wall of screens flashes white for a moment, a garish notification that files are downloading. Seven sighs in relief as he watches his laptop dance around frantically, processing all the new information. A couple more minutes, and he can take Yoosung and leave this place.

Just 96 more seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback, including critism, so don't be shy.
> 
> Come find me!  
> Tumblr: @chip-off-the-writers-block  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/chip-off-the-writers-block  
> Wattpad: @chipoff-writersblock


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